Page 72 of The Disputed Legacy
Saul:They said the shooters were some assholes the Cartel was recruiting.
Hugo:Dumbasses.
I agreed.
Hugo:So there’s no need for more backup?
Hugo:Need anything?
I did. I needed to know why Willow was so scared of law enforcement. With a sickening dread of indecision, I wondered if I had been stupid to want to wait for her to open up to me. To not force her trust in me and hopefully her love for me like my brothers had with their women.
Is it stupid to want areallife to start a life together?
I’d been so jaded and against commitment for so long that I worried I was being ridiculous to let this go so far. I was a fucking ranking leader of the Ivanov Syndicate. If Willow was the woman I wanted to make mine, I could’ve just taken her and made her mine already.
Saul:No. I don’t need anything.
At least, I didn’t need anything from him.
What I needed was for Willow to trust in me. To open up and explain why she would get so tense if a cop came near. The nightof the shooting, her emotions had been running high. She was reacting in a post-trauma manner to the violence, so in the light of that, I had wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt that she wasn’t necessarily triggered by cops but freaked out in general.
Whatever it is, I’ll get to the bottom of it.
She was hiding something from me, and in order for me to fully protect her and anticipate how to best keep her safe—and happy—I would have to demand that we try to talk about it.
Taking this slow was a smart choice… until it wasn’t.
29
WILLOW
They weren’t here for me.
It wasn’t him.
The officers sat at the counter and talked to Margo while I kept up with the demands of my tables. Irene was just as busy. Margo probably should’ve been busy too. Tonight was unusually busier than what I would’ve expected it to be. Busy was welcome. More tips was something to appreciate. But as the cops lingered and talked to Margo, checking out the diner in general, I felt torn and unable to give my tables my best attention and effort.
Their showing up at all worried me.
The fact that Oscar was here, in the diner, upped the stakes and had me two seconds from a full-blown panic attack.
They’re not taking Oscar.
They’re not punishing me.
They’re not here for us.
It’s not happening.
It won’t happen.
Mantras like that did little to calm me. Not even knowing Saul was in the diner could tamp down the overpowering stressthat built and built. On the brink of snapping, I could only breathe and put one foot in front of the other to make it through this shift. With one more dreadful thought, I’d be bound to grab Oscar and just run out of here like a madwoman, hunted and scared.
Catching Margo’s attention as I passed through the diner, I felt reassured that she’d stepped up to speak to them. She gave me stern, calm glances. Like nonverbally declaring that she had this, that she’d take care of their arrival. Even though she didn’t know the reasons for my fear and panic, she knew enough to handle it and take charge.
My pulse roared in my ears. Dizzy with extreme stress, I couldn’t think straight, let alone listen to anything that the cops said.
As long as they didn’t notice me or Oscar. As long as they didn’t turn and spot Saul sitting with Oscar, it seemed that this was nothing more than a false alarm.
