4. Ember
EMBER
NOVEMBER WAS WHITE, DECEMBER WAS GREY - SAY HI
Parked on the precipice of a dangerously steep peak, Briar Valley stretches out below us in all its snow-swept glory. The sheer size of the mountain range is breathtaking. In all directions, there’s nothing but desolate rock faces, frozen waterfalls and bubbling snow clouds begging to split open.
“Yes, sir. I understand.”
In the driver’s seat, Warner murmurs into the mobile phone. We had to drive hundreds of metres out of the valley just to get enough signal to call HQ to check in.
“And you trust the source?” He massages his forehead, brow furrowed in a grimace. “Right… Yes. No, I understand. Blaine’s criminal connections are compelling.”
“Compelling?” I laugh under my breath.
He flashes me an exasperated eye roll. “We can be on the road by nightfall. If we drive straight through, we’ll make it to London before dawn.”
That causes me to sit upright in the passenger seat. We’ve been packed and ready to leave since Killian’s outburst but took full advantage of Willow’s invitation to stay longer and rest, regardless of her husband’s attitude.
“And our tight-lipped prisoner? Still nothing? Hmm… odd. I’ll update Axel.”
I tap his arm to gain his attention then mouth, Gunnar?
Warner nods in confirmation.
Shit, that’ll be a fun conversation.
Aside from confirming that he’s alive and in custody, Axel hasn’t mentioned his elusive twin brother once. If Gunnar’s refusing to talk, he’s waiting to strike a bargain. The question is what he’ll demand in return.
“Thank you. We’ll be in touch.”
Warner ends the phone call, his shoulders deflating as he rests his forehead on the steering wheel.
“What did the directors say?” I dare to ask.
“Nolan Madden’s on the move.”
“Wait, what? Says who?”
“Apparently, they’ve been in contact with Blaine’s people; that pink-haired chick and the big dude with the weird name reached out with intel.”
“Raye and Spyder?”
He nods solemnly.
Not blinking, I stare at him for a moment. “You’re not serious.”
“They made contact, that’s all I know.”
“To what end?”
“Perhaps we should be asking their leader that question,” he grumbles. “If Blaine haggled himself a plea deal and Sabre’s protection, maybe they want the same thing.”
Granting Blaine clemency is one thing. Sabre was already toeing a line by bringing him into the fold a few months ago. But willingly using his connections and conspiring with his allies crosses some serious legal and ethical lines.
“I don’t understand what the directors are thinking by trusting them. They might’ve helped us in Estonia, but their allegiance is certainly not to Sabre.”
“I suppose the enemy of my enemy is my friend.” He straightens, scraping a hand along his jaw. “The Madden empire is embedded in London’s criminal underworld. It makes sense to bring his subordinates onside.”
“Do you think Blaine knows?”
“Perhaps they haven’t been able to reach him out here and decided to contact Sabre instead. I suppose we’ll find out.”
“If his father is officially on the move, Blaine needs to know. We’re going to be under fire from all angles.”
Warner tosses the phone into the cupholder. “Madden’s recruiting loyal supporters, offering to pay handsomely.”
“Pay for what?” Unease swirls through my belly.
“Muscle, protection. Bodies on the ground. If he’s really coming back to London, he’ll be making a play for the throne. That would involve an all-out challenge to his son’s rule.”
Staring out the front window, I contemplate the snow-swollen skies like they hold the answer to all our problems. We knew Madden would make his first move on the chessboard soon enough. But stepping into our territory? That’s bold. Even for a man of his calibre.
Warner throws the borrowed truck into gear to begin our descent. “We have to leave. It’s time to go home.”
“I think you’re right.”
“A bit of peace and quiet was nice while it lasted, though, huh?”
The drive down the mountain is fraught with tense silence. We make it through the spiralling snowflakes to re-enter town without skidding too much. The truck’s tyres are adorned with thick chains, steeling it against winter’s onslaught.
“Drop me at Willow’s cabin. I need to speak to her before we leave.”
“Now?” Warner turns to peer at me, a divot between his brows
“Yeah, I’m all packed. Didn’t bring much to begin with.”
“True.” He chuckles without humour. “I need to get Axel prepped to move. He can walk to the bathroom alone now, but enduring a long journey south is another matter.”
“Can’t we take a jet?”
“I don’t want a paper trail leading back here.” Warner quickly shakes his head. “We don’t know who can be trusted right now, and I refuse to put Willow in danger for helping us.”
“Fair enough. Driving it is.”
“Axel will be fine.” He pulls up outside the cabin, reaching over the console to take my hand. “It’s going to be okay, Em. You were right. We can do this.”
Lips pursed, I nod then hop out of the truck. Warner watches me climb the steps to Willow’s cabin and knock. When she opens the door, he offers a wave before taking off to update the others.
“Everything okay?” Willow watches his tail lights vanish.
“We have to go, there’s been an update. I wanted to see you before we left town.”
“Of course. Come in, it’s freezing out here.”
Inside the cabin’s warmth, Willow fills two coffee cups then leads me into the fire-lit living room. The log burner is roaring away in the corner, casting light across two huge plaid sofas, weighed down by blankets and throw pillows.
“Take a seat, make yourself at home.”
“Thank you.”
Considering the situations we’ve seen each other in, it seems unnatural to sit and share something as simple as a coffee. I blink a couple times to make sure what I’m seeing is real.
“Ember?” Willow’s mouth forms a half-smile.
“Sorry. Just thinking how odd this is.”
“It’s strange for me too.” She blows into her steaming mug.
“It is?”
“Well, I’m not the person you met anymore. You’re no longer the street fighter I once admired either. Though you’re still badass and a little intimidating, truthfully.”
“Me?” I erupt in laughter. “Intimidating?”
“I mean, I saw you fight.” She shrugs, sipping her hot drink. “Hard not to be intimidated by that.”
“Okay, fair enough. But I’d never hurt you or anyone here, for that matter. We’re on the same side of this fight.”
“God help anyone not on your side, that’s all I have to say.”
Staring down into my coffee cup, I can’t put to words all the things I want to ask her. The questions that have haunted me since I exited the private jet and saw her face again in the middle of nowhere.
In that moment, a world of possibilities opened up. Alternate futures I hadn’t ever allowed myself to consider. If someone like Willow—someone with the same scars and invisible wounds as me—can achieve happiness?
Hell, it must be fucking possible.
She folds her legs up underneath her, setting the cup aside to give me her full attention.
“Why are you here, Ember?”
“I need to know if it exists.”
“If what exists?” Her stare is rapt, unblinking.
Looking around me, all I can see is evidence of her calm, happy life. The kids’ finger paintings scattered across the worn floorboards. Odd piles of clean laundry. Framed family photographs.
She found it. Normalcy.
Maybe… I can too.
My tongue darts out to wet my suddenly dry lips. “Peace. Did you find it?”
Understanding filters through her gaze, turning shades of hazel into molten caramel. For a pregnant pause, she’s silent. Her hesitation seems to stretch infinitely until she finds the words to answer.
“For the longest time, I didn’t think a happy future was in the cards for me. Not after all I’d seen and survived, after the way Arianna grew up, the sacrifices made to protect her from the truth of our life.”
I can’t begin to imagine. How she raised a daughter in that situation, I’ll never know.
“Then I found my way home.” Willow smiles to herself. “I met my family—not the ones bound by blood, but my forever family. The people I chose to rebuild my life around, one painstaking step at a time. The ones who walked beside me through hell.”
“Your… husbands?” I hazard a guess.
“A little unconventional, I know. Though it seems like you’re more familiar with the arrangement than some. I see the way those boys all look at you, Ember.”
“They’re my team. My… family.”
“And they make you happy? They support you?”
“Yes. Without a doubt.”
“Then you’re halfway there.”
“I don’t know,” I admit in a hushed voice. “All we’ve faced is upheaval. What does that leave us on the other side of this?”
“With unconditional love like that on your side, it doesn’t matter what this life will throw at you. All that counts is who sticks around when things get ugly.”
My index finger absently traces the old scars across my knuckles. “There’s already been plenty of ugly.”
“I still see four men following you to the ends of the earth to make sure you’re safe and well.”
Unfolding her legs, Willow moves across the room, taking a seat on the sofa next to me. She doesn’t go as far as touching me, yet it’s a clear show of support.
“Why are you really here, Ember?”
In my throat, my erratic heartbeat bruises my oesophagus. She sees straight through me to all the insecurity I keep stuffed into a dark corner.
“What if it isn’t enough?” I whisper through a thick throat. “You know what they did to us out there. I’m worried I’ll always be this way, that a time will come when I’ll be too hard to love.”
She contemplates me for a moment, seeming to chew over what to say next.
“You’re right, it isn’t enough. And it took me a very long time to confront everything I’d seen and endured so that sickness couldn’t poison me anymore.”
“I’ve dealt with all that,” I quickly say. “Sabre mandates therapy for all its agents.”
“Have you truly dealt with it? Because I’m still wrestling with a decade of bad memories, and I’m not even close to tackling some of those motherfuckers. You’re allowed to not be okay.”
Intuition tells me my favourite therapist, Doctor Richards, and even his ugly-ass shirts would agree with her.